"Nobody's gonna fuckin' touch you, man," Kavinsky says, and it's with such sincerity, such certainty, that Jiang, standing and watching them, can almost believe him.

Kavinsky lets go of Proko's ears, ruffles his fingers into his hair. For a moment, Jiang is very aware of how small Proko is, of how his body is put together.

"New rule, motherfuckers," Kavinsky says, and it's with an almost exhausted sigh. "If you're gonna break into my house for a cheap thrill, you tell me so I know to hang out somewhere else."